The Scouting Legion's Romeo & Juliet
by WhatBoredomWills
Summary: Agnes Dein, one of Irvin Smith's many assistants and a liaison officer, has a theatre production to manage. However, things go haywire when her cast fell ill and a last minute recast that could make or break Shakespeare's most tragic play. How will the 104th graduated trainees and firm superiors react to this? Levi x OC [acts as a review to Agnes' full story later] Reviews please!


**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan. I own the original character, plot and general idea of this fiction._

**The Scouting Legion's  
ROMEO AND JULIET  
**  
_The First Verse:  
"An Intermission of Grief"_

Warm and raw dawning daylight pierced through the hard layers of her office's clear glassed windows and draping its immense share of sunshine onto her short raven strands and pale limb body; she laid the upper half on the hard pine desk, arms crossed on the other and head tucked comfortably right in the middle. Papers, envelopes with and without contents spread over everywhere on its surface—some even trapped under her vaporing breaths—as her lungs heaved in and out peacefully. Gentle whispers passed by her door and sweet chirpings of bird song slowly rose in the air outside; it took a while for the heat of the morning sun to reach her consciousness and wake her from a rather dazed dream. When she did open up her wide and deep auburn eyes, she was still dazed—wondering why her cheeks were suddenly numb and neck aching when straightened. She woke up, blinked faintly at the sight of the condolence letters, and that brought her back into harsh reality. She had been sleeping in her office again it seemed.

She found her caramel leather uniform jacket lying idly on the floor beside her chair, which explained why she had been feeling cold and shivering; she must've placed it over her but it fell off while she was sleeping, she thought. She then realised that she had taken her fingerless gloves, belts and harnesses off from her person, leaving only her casual maroon linen sweater, white cotton pants and knee-high leather boots over her. It all came back in memory; after dismissing her assistants last night, she took off her uniform and headed out for a shower. But when she returned from the bathroom, she couldn't sleep with the thought of those letters waiting on her. So she stayed up and started writing them down, hoping to finish before dawn.

Groaning in annoyance, she leaned back into her office chair and pressed her temple hard; her two assistants Private Arlert and Private Hoover had not checked on her yet. They haven't been on the right track of mind nor schedule since the Trost incident in Wall Rose and she forgave them for that. No, in fact, it was her who arranged for them to be laid-back than usual.

"Geez, Marco," she mumbled to herself as she sifted through the envelopes; she took up an unsealed one addressed to Mr and Mrs Bott. "If I had died then instead of you, no one would need to write and send out something as pathetic as this."

She thought she heard a chuckle.

_"But that doesn't spare anyone from any pain or suffering."_

She closed her eyes silently, feeling the welled up tears at the very edge of her tear ducts; she won't shed any of her tears since he made her promise not to cry over him. Yet still, he haunted her sight and imagination—almost to a deranged and distorted way. If this would continue, people might actually have to put her down like a useless and berserk animal. She then shook her head to disperse the illusion and folded the envelope shut, pulling out her side drawer and kept the letter sitting there; if she would lay her eyes on it any longer, she'd probably snap. For now, she'll send all the other letters to the martyr's family but not Marco's—not until she had the time to send it in person herself.

Just as she was about to stand up and stretch her strained and numb muscles, a knock on the door startled her.

"M-Miss Dein? A-Are you awake?" the awkward and shy voice was clearly Private Arlert's.

She ran quick fingers into her hair to fix up the statics; she must've looked rather unkempt then, despite her short pixie cut hair. "Yes, come in."

"Miss Dein," he called on as he pushed the door forward; his eager blue eyes met her as soon as he took a step inside. A quick salute soon followed, just before he handed her a small note. By this time, however, she had already been stretching and twisting her limbs. "I've a memo for you from the Military. It comes from high command."

She scoffed a quiet hum of an intelligible noun and left him standing there for a while with his hand out in the open awkwardly. She proceeded with taking her harness and belts from the drawers behind her chair, just under her wide paned windows; with her back against him, she stared out in the open field of the legion's barracks as she wrapped the tight leather sash around her bottom. The boy began tensing at the sight his eyes were showing him and from time to time, he lingered his gaze at the most inappropriate places on her meek body. But she would startle him with snapping her belts as she put them on her person. He couldn't help but jump at the sound and shyly gulp down his tension. It was worst to hold back his eyes from staring conspicuously when she put her belt over the mounds on her chest and when the strange thought of wondering if she would snap the leather bands on them emerged out of nowhere.

"Oh, that's rare," came her late comment; again, this startled him and he looked away to avoid her gaze, "Whose is it?"

"Um, it's the Generalissimo himself, miss," he mumbled.

Her eyes widened a little at that; "The only time that man's ever sent me anything was when he complimented about our performance at the theatre."

"_Our_?" Arlert voiced his confusion. It's great that this had completely dispersed bad thoughts from his mind, but the intense curiosity retained. "U-um, you've never talked much about your theatre company before…"

"Ah, haven't I? Forgive me, I should've said something. You are my assistant after all."

"N-no," Arlert trembled when she then pointed him to sit on the chair before her. But once seated, he smiled gladly and eased himself into the chair, "I've heard you said it consisted of some of the seniors from the Scouting Legion. But you never spoke about how it works or what play you did. And I never wanted to impose."

"Well, anyway, my theatre members acted out _Taming of the Shrew_ two years ago. It was exhilarating and the crowd went crazy. They've even asked for an encore and we had to do another run the next year."

"Wait, what? You're not in the same theatre as Nessie Das Tal*, are you? They said that she was part of the Scouting Legion, but no says anything about her around here!"

"As a matter of fact, that's my stage name."

"N-No way! I've heard so much about your theatre company! They've never mentioned it was part of the Scouting Legion! How come you've never told me?"

"That name has its own perks and cons, Armin. As you know, Nessie herself is a totally different persona than I am. It's a great call of practice… Anyway, you see, the theatre company that I run always and only plays once a year. We specifically play for the upper brass for our donation drive and support group. It's a simple process, really. We practice for six continuous, whole weeks and perform a whole month for every year."

He simply watched her with an anxious gaze as she wrapped her arms into a new, folded jacket from her drawers. He never would've pegged her as someone behind the name _Nessie of the Valley_* and he always pictured the said person as someone likely to be much older. While he was busy thinking about it, she snatched the note from his fingers, opening it up before reading intently at the message within—changing the course of his admiring thoughts into plighted panic.

"S-so… w-what is i-it about, Miss Dein?" he stammered.

"Just a reminder that he looks forward to our production this year. He's the caretaker of all three military branches so of course he has to keep up," she exhaled a rather frustrated sigh, "This only means more pressure on us to perform well. But I don't blame him. After what's happened, we all do need a little cheering up!"

"Y-yes, y-you're right… I still have difficulty believing that Eren has the ability to transform into a titan. I can't even stop thinking about what his father may have in store for us in their basement back in Shiganshina!"

"I still have difficulty to grasp that as well, especially after so many deaths and losses. I take it that the Generalissimo himself feels obliged to lighten up the mood, given what happened in the court room a few days ago. Speaking of which, where is Eren?"

"He was still in the dungeon yesterday… But I think today is supposed to be his medical examination day so he should be out and about, Miss Dein."

Her sudden sharp gaze made him flinch. "Armin, how many times have I told you call me Agnes?"

"W-well, I d-don't want to i-impose."

"Tell me something… Am I allowed to impose you?"

The boy gulped nervously as sweats begin to bead out of his facial pores. "O-of course, miss!" he flinched again, realizing his mistake and quickly quipped, "I mean, Agnes!"

"Then let me impose you to keep calling me that. I hate it when you go all _Miss this_ and _Miss that_. It really gets on my nerves sometimes. Just don't call me that in front of anyone. You can do it _privately_."

The boy began blushing harder as beet red as a tomato; he wondered if this was how his colleague Bertolt Hoover felt when he was bestowed the same privilege. Arlert always thought it must've been rather nice for a superior to be on some personal level with him—of course, he never wanted to be the one to break the standards he had by far been showing, so it had to come to him gradually. His hitched breathing slowly eased as a sheepish smile formed on his lips; he came to understanding that he was finally on the same desired par as his colleague. She noticed his daydreaming and she knew exactly what lingering on his mind—it had been obvious that her assistants have been not on the same page since what seemed to be her special treatment and favoritism on one of them. But she never intended for it to appear that way to them.

While Armin was never the jealous type in the slightest, a little familiarity as this made him feel like he was _normal_ and _like everybody else_ for once. As the boy remained seated there comfortably, his superior Agnes Dein walked off to her desk and stacked up all the envelopes together. Then, she strode back at him and handed them out; it ought to disperse his perverse thoughts.

"Here," she muttered under her breath, "Send this out, will you? We don't need to delay the pain of not knowing any longer."

Armin's expression quickly changed as he eyed the envelopes; he sifted through them just like she did before, rechecking and making sure she hadn't missed anyone—but then he realized his late coworker and friend, Marco Bott's, letter was no where in it. He knew he wrote down the names and he knew she wouldn't have forgotten about it. The only explanation was that—

"You're going to see them?" he croaked anxiously. Finding out that she was the popular stage actress Nessie Das Tal and that she was going to see Marco's parents just didn't compute in his brain—at least briefly.

She nodded silently; this was exactly why she chose someone like Armin to be her assistant. He can be passive and practical at times, but he can read her mind and still be objective about it. "Yes, I am."

"B-But it is a-advisable, Agnes?"

"Of course it is, Armin," she muttered as she crossed her arms, boring her brown orbs into his as he shifted in his seat uneasily, "It's the least I could for what Marco suffered… After all, that boy died for my sake. I am indebted to him and I should thank his parents for giving him life before he gave it up for me. If it hadn't been for him, I would've died."

"B-But what if they… s-snap at you or something? They'll blame you for his death! You know what grief does to a person—I mean, look at Jean!"

"Marco told me before he—well, he had informed me that he's told his parents about him working with me. He said they can't wait to meet me. So we arranged to meet them before he goes off to Wall Sina for his admission into the MP*… 'guess you know what happened next."

Armin tried to swallow the tension of his shame for invoking such a stupid question; but a pat on his back startled him and he yelped like a child.

"It's alright, Armin. That question is bound to come up. You're just doing your job as my subordinate and assistant in case I should overlook anything on my own account, and you're doing a great job at it! Just relax. I'm not going to scold you for that…"

The boy lowered his head and looked away, "I know that. But I can't help it and feel sorry anyway."

"Look on the brighter side of things, will you? We're here now. We're alive, even if at the cost of losing so many lives. We mustn't let it all go to waste and for nothing."

"Y-you're right. I-I'll just be on my way then…"

Armin Arlert quickly stood up and scooted his way beside his superior towards the door; just as he reached out for the knob, however, the door was flung opened into his face with the envelopes in his once secured hands scattering on the floor. He let out an audible cry, staggered backwards and muffled his lips as he reached out for his nose. He gave it soft pinch before crying softly at the ache and then angrily pulled the door open; the guests on the other side, however, made the boy change his mind (and strangely enough, his thoughts on the existence of his wound).

"C-Commander Pixis!" he exclaimed, though it ended up sounding more like a squeal than a shout. He hastily formed a salute as he caught the old man's amused look.

"Opps, sorry about that, son!" said the elderly superior of the Garrison Military branch; he gestured the slightest of waves that signalled the boy to be casual in his presence. "I didn't expect anyone to be standing by the door when I opened it! Did I hurt you?"

"N-no, sir, not at all. It was entirely my fault," the boy was so nervous he didn't notice his best friend and colleague standing beside the Commander. His straying blue eyes glanced around as he exhaled in relief, which caught the sight of his coworker Hoover and best friend Jaeger; "Eren! You're out of the dungeon!"

"And into the dragon's belly…" mumbled Private Jaeger as a sweat dripped along his temple; he crouched down on his knees as he picked up the mess of letters one by one, catching swift glances of sympathy from his friend. It was still difficult to grasp the fact that they've lost so much friends and comrades in the span of a single day.

Bertolt Hoover who was next to him looked quite queasy as well; they both arrived sweating and panting heavily, as if they had been rushing here. As Agnes' assistant, he bent down as well and helped with gathering the envelopes, handing it back to Armin. He then looked up in time to see Agnes peered her head by the door frame and he quickly added, "Y-yeah, we came to—"

"Why, hello there, Private Dein! Haven't seen you in ages!" the Commander's voice overlapped Hoover's speech, startling the three boys.

Agnes shifted her gaze to the old man and saluted; her fingers clenched to a fist as she pounded it lightly on her chest, her other arm folded behind her back and her chin held high. When the man nodded, she eased her posture, asking, "Commander Pixis, sir. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was just doing myself the honor of escorting young Eren here to your office."

"How very _dot_ing of you."

The boys behind them were silenced by her comment to her superior, which ended up making them gape in disbelief; they wouldn't dare to think she was capable of going _that_ far and get away with it. But the old and scrawny man suddenly burst into a booming guffaw.

"Don't you always just love to use my name as a pun, dear Agnes?"

"Yes, lovely," Agnes spread the door open and titlted her head, "Why don't you all come on in? It's rude to discuss by the door like this."

Commander Pixis smiled and walked into the office with the three boys silently following suit (Armin was curious over the man's appearance); then the old man turned his heel and faced Agnes with a playful glint in his eyes as she shut the door. "Remember when I said that I don't mind dying in the hands of a beautiful female titan? I wonder what you would look like as one…"

Private Hoover tried his best to hold his exploding desire to punch the elderly superior; one could tell that he was angry by the looks of his creased eyebrows, bitten lip and white squeezing knuckles. Eren even had to pat him in the back when the man's lingering gaze dragged from her head to her toes, pausing a while on the mounts on her chest. It was rather awkward to see their superiors behaved this way, even to each other.

"Are you gauging how my breasts would look like if I was a titan?" she deadpanned with much aloofness.

His dark eyes returned to hers as he smirked, "It's funny how you say that without feeling. Breaks my heart!"

"Touché."

"Gah! Don't I enjoy talking to you! It's like talking to a chess board!"

Agnes lightly scoffed at that as she seated herself behind her desk; "What _really_ brings you here, sir?"

"Even as a private, you've earned yourself an office. Tell me how again that you got to keep this office despite being ranked private just like any of these _adorable_ boys?"

"D'you mean aside from my abundant experience?" after receiving a contented nod from her superior, she heaved out a tired sigh, "I've been one of Commander Smith's assistant for more than ten years as well as the liason officer of the Scouting Legion with all three military branches. I am authorised to keep this office thanks to the Generalissimo."

"That man is always fond of you."

"He doesn't even know me. He's just doing things out of his own advantage. It's my skills that he's after."

"Well, anyway, Eren and Bertolt here has some grave news to tell you, dear."

She glanced at the latter boy with slightly widened eyes, "What is it, Bertl?"

"Oh!" Just as the boy spoke, Commander Pixis intervened him again, "Calling them by nicknames, have you? That's interesting."

His stare turned towards Private Hoover at this point, as if gauging the boy the way he gauged Private Dein; he seemed aware of the sizzling rumours that a certain young Private was in love with his superior, senior Private and that the young man then became her paramour. Then his sneaky silent lips turned upwards with a smirk tugging the ends and mocking leers that made Bertolt quiver in both anger and embarrassment.

"_Just_ get on with it," growled Private Dein, uninterested with replying her superior's comment.

Yet Commander Pixis interrupted the gangly boy again; "It's about your cast and crew for _the year's most anticipated theatre production._"

"What about them?"

"Something's happened!" Private Hoover spoke up this time, gulping his nervousness over how Commander Pixis would react to his actions, "They've been food poisoned!"

The look of distress finally filled her face as a grim sulk appeared; "What?" she tried to gasp calmly, but upon some nervous reflex, she wound up standing on her feet as she slammed her hands on the table. It was evident that she was panicking at this news as she went on, "What the hell happened? How the hell did that happen?"

"A certain outbreak of contaminated food broke out in the North of Wall Rose and apparently, your cast and crew headed out to a shop that has some infected meat and got food poisoned. But the matter's already taken cared of!" explained Commander Pixis.

"But our theatre practice begins next week! By the time that they recover, we won't have much time!"

"Don't fret, dear Agnes! It's just the cast, apparently. I hear the crew's fine so you'll have a crew to prepare the props by then. Remember when you did _Twelfth Night?_"

Her expression eased for a while; but it quickly resolved in anger. "Who could forget what happened then?"

"Your props were amazing!" praised the old man as he raised his chin in thought, "I remember thinking how it must've been done by a military inventor… The ship scene at the start took my breath away! I saw the marvel at the after party—I remember trying to take the large basin away for a pool party since it had wheels. But then how could it? The large wooden board where you acted on had four propelling leveler below it to imitate rocking waves was magnificent—I couldn't have handled it!"

"Ah, so you were referring to the props…"

"Well, your performance with Corporal Levi was breath taking too!"At this point, Eren was too curious to keep his words to himself; "Corporal Levi was in a _play_?"

"Yes," Agnes grunted at that, "He played my _twin_ sibling in the Twelfth Night."

"You were Viola and _he_ was Sebastian? But what about Duke Orsino? With how he is always on the wrong page with you, I wouldn't peg him as one to take Sebastian's role!" cried Armin eagerly.

Commander Pixis laughed out loud; this stopped everyone at their tracks as they awaited his explanation. As his laughter died down and red blushes apparent on his cheeks, he then prodded, "Well, who could forget how Irvin was as the Duke, anyway! Or that young Private Ral as Lady Olivia! Or Private Bossard's skills as Sir Toby! That was a beautiful performance by all of you—brings me back to such fond memories! I hope you'll do another Twelfth Night."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I swore to myself I won't ever act out Twelfth Night again… At least not in another five years or until someone could replace Levi," groaned Private Dein as she pressed her temple, "And now with the cast gone, I have to audition for a recast by tomorrow or else I won't have a job by end of the week!"

"I'm sure you'll find away…"

"Miss Dein, this play you're doing… Which exactly is it?" Armin voiced his generosity. He was worried about her as well, but he didn't know exactly how to help out. "Maybe we could help out."

"Armin, as much as I appreciate the thought, theatre acting is not child's play. Plus, you know how much pressure the Generalissimo has placed on my shoulders. I can't take up student amateurs at this hour."

"But you don't have any choice," urged Commander Pixis, "Your cast were students once!"

"Yes, they were, but they have been subjected to months of practice the first time they joined the theatre and years after that. Moreover, those kids had passion for the theatre. Taking up last minute students meant a ditch effort at best."

"You could use some ditching, dear."

"At least tell us what you're doing!" cried Armin desperately, "We'd try and help you any way you say! Right, Bertolt, Eren?"

Bertolt nodded sheepishly after a quick nod; but an unsure sweat dropped down his forehead. "Y-yes!"

"H-hey, don't drag me into this!" grunted Eren, "I've got nothing on acting—_lass das_!"

"Why, you'll never know until you try, Eren! But, Armin's right! Even I don't know what you're playing out this year, Agnes! Maybe you should have a little faith in us!" laughed the old Commander.

"Well, if you really want to know… The play we'll be playing is," she took up a deep breath and huffed out the last three words out of her mouth depressingly, "_Romeo and Juliet_."

Eren's big emerald eyes widened as he cried—torn between hilarity and insanity, "What!? Y-you're playing a love fest!?"

"W-why have you chosen a romantic play? It's unsuitable, given what we've just gone through! It might send the wrong message!" argued Armin.

Bertolt too nodded his head; although he dreamed slightly on the thought of her being Juliet and him being Romeo. "Yes, Miss Dein, have you thought this through and through?"

"And this is the first time you've ever played that one…" Commander Pixis voiced his concern as well, "Are you sure you can handle such a passionate play?"

"Look," Agnes forced another sigh, "It won that right after five times of our traditional draw! That's more than a coincidence… And given what just happened with my cast, it's obvious that a higher power or fate is trying to clown us around!"

As the three boys and the elderly Commander was facing Agnes, arguing their points and handing their own support in a silver platter, the door behind them suddenly opened; they spun around to look at it and a rather disgruntled looking Levi (but he always had _that_ look on his face) walked in without invitation or greeting. He said nothing, just paying attention to the minute details of their frozen body language.

Agnes had her eyebrows creased firmly at the sight before her—he hated going into her office so she couldn't think of a reason why he'd show up. They never saw eye to eye with each other since they had joined the Scouting Legions; her recent reacquisition into the said branch had been puzzling him, but their commanding officer, Erwin Smith, assured him that it was more than just _making the best coffee of the house_. And it might've been clear to him, had he paid more attention to the detailed reports of when and where she had mattered in terms of inter-relation between all the branches. She was handed the task of working with the other branches where psychological support was in question, but that doesn't matter right now. Right now, he was taking care in approaching the crowd before him and that worried her a little.

"Levi? What brings you here at this _ungodly_ hour?" she queried, uncomfortable at the silent treatment he was giving them all as he examined them. Her emphasis on the word 'ungodly' was only natural; even if Levi would be forced to enter her office, it wouldn't be at this beautiful time of the morning.

He paid no attention to her at first. His dark silver eyes slithered from each one of the rookie boys, then towards their superiors at the desk; "I was looking for Eren," he explained calmly as he maintained his steadfast gaze at Private Jaeger, "I've been yelling for hours at people who kept on telling me that Commander Pixis was escorting you out, but I just couldn't believe my ears! So it's actually true…"

Commander Pixis smiled at that, "Yes, well, it's the least I could do after what happened in Trost."

"And judging from the ruckus just now," Levi turned his eyes towards Agnes this time, "You've already been told that your cast was badly food poisoned?"

She nodded her head, reading him at every second. "Yeah, they were just telling me all about it."

"And discussing the back-up plan," quipped the Commander of the Garrison again; his eyes were deep trenches of thought.

"Right…" For some reason, Corporal Levi had difficulty imagining the old man to come up with some good last minute ideas on a theatre production; he shook his head slightly before saying to the woman before him, "Anyway, Erwin wants to know what's_your_ plan on that."

"I'll have to audition for a recast first, obviously," she tried to swallow her now brittle pride, expecting something more than just a scold coming from him as he enquired.

"You're gonna have to do it by tomorrow or else you're never going to make it."

"I know that," she snapped with an insignificant pout; her hand abruptly made its way towards her face and she began to gently chew on the top of her thumb in a fit of anxiety. Levi noticed this as she went on, "But judging from how they've reacted to what I've just announced about the play I'll be doing, I think we've just hit another bump on the road."

"And just what the hell do you mean by _that_?"

Armin quickly answered for her; "Miss Dein will have to audition a recast for…"

"The most romantic—" cooed Eren.

Bertl after him then continued, "And tragic—"

"Play of all times," finished Commander Pixis, still lost in thought.

It took a while for Levi to let everything that they said sink into the pivotal lobes of his achingly critical mind; but when it did materialize in his well-structured consciousness, all of his self-control trembled. His eyes were slightly widened, brows pressed down in confusion of panic and fear, lips pursed in disbelief and nostrils flaring—trying to make sense of every atom of air.

"You're f***ing kidding me, right?" he barked with anger all the sudden; her expression changed too—eyes pressed close, gulping and sweating down her brows—as if she expected even more yelling, "How the hell did you get your hands on Romeo and Juliet, woman?!"

* * *

_**Author's Note: **  
_

_Also available on DeviantArt /d6xbdl7  
Please review and thanks! :D If you have DA account, review there too! _

_PS: Eren will be Romeo and Annie will be Juliet. ;D_


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